Conversation with the moon tonight,
thinking unclouded, visions were bright.
She said, "It's quite nice to be a child--
just keep looking up once in a while."
Then petals white by the thousands heaved
to show me all whose colors I breathe,
and thousands of ears turned toward my voice
as my eyes asked questions without choice.
These mothers passed to me a strange lot:
though they remain silent, I am taught.
6 years ago
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